The Sky, Of Course

Story by skiesofsilver on SoFurry

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A commission for Mehlahphuse on FA


Moonlight beamed directly onto Stephen's closed eyes. The young mage apprentice rolled over in his bunk, but the silver glow continued to shine on his face. He grumbled, turned his head upwards and opened his eyes the slightest bit. He stared in tired hatred through the open window to his left side and to the full moon that rested in the dark night sky. He sighed and was about to close his weary eyes when a sudden thought struck him.

"The sky," he whispered. "Of course!"

His eyes flew wide open. He blinked them a few times until they appeared alert if still exhausted. This not being enough, the apprentice sat up in his bed and momentarily rubbed at his eyes before throwing his bundle of blankets off his chest. He brought his legs close to his chest and turned his body right. He let his legs dangle off the bunk as he examined his surroundings. Three story bunks like his were evenly spaced about a large, cold room and upon each bed lay an apprentice like him save for the fact that none were awake. He smiled and glanced down at the ground. From his place on the third bed up to the ground was certainly not a jump most would like to risk and he couldn't climb down lest he risk waking up his bunkmates. Still, there was a reason the most talented students of the Quivolian Academy often took the top bunk.

Stephen wiggled his feet, muttering words tinged with power under his breath. After he had uttered the last word, he leapt off the bunk. For a moment he was suspended in air; then, he floated so slowly to the ground that he actually yawned, unconcerned. When his feet touched the ground, his smile deepened. The spell had been a simple incantation for a simple task yet he reveled in his mastery of it. As he bent down and retrieved his boots and thick woolen robes, he thought of a time when he could cast greater spells with ease, the ability to reshape reality a mere privilege of his power. Alas, that time was not now, but he planned it to be sooner than many of his compatriots. It was this longing for arcane acuity, to be a master and not just a student that set him apart from his fellows. It was for this reason why he had awoken himself so soon after resting, at the cusp of the divide between day and night. He would not idly waste hours on relaxation when there was practicing to be done, exercises that would ensure he was nothing but the best.

Stephen donned his robe and boots. Before he set about walking, he whispered another spell under his breath. He waited when his boots briefly glowed and then he took a silent step forward, muffled by magic. He continued walking, striding confidently through the resting hall. He paid no attention to those around him, for he knew none would wake. Even if someone did, he would hardly care and neither would they. After all, he could just be heading out to relieve himself for all they knew. Who would be crazy enough to go out in the cold and practice in a craft one had already slaved away for hours previously? Stephen knew this mindset, but hardly understood it. After all, how could magic with all its benefits be drudgery? Academy work was difficult, certainly more so than others, but the benefits were worthy of all that one put into it.

The mage shook his head and came to a halt in front of the hall's doors. These he opened without the assistance of magic, stepping outside onto freshly fallen snow before quietly closing the portals shut. Now outdoors, he shivered from the cold, a problem easily remedied with another spell that ensured he would be properly warm until he chose not to. Still, he adjusted his robes so that they were snug on him and the winds that often blew through the high climes would not disturb his attire. Warm and comfortable, Stephen headed down the mountainside path, towards a large building that housed not humans, but creatures. These creatures included beasts of every variety that proved useful to the instructors of the academy, whether it be training or reagent. The focus of the next day's lesson, the one Stephen intended to get a head start on, was that of alteration.

This alteration involved taming of sorts, in the way of turning a creature usually threatening and aggressive into another form less dangerous, if not totally docile. The announcement of such a lesson had been meet with much fear and consternation among the students. Alteration was one of the most difficult, if not the most difficult of all the schools of magic. After all, transfiguring a living being or transmuting materials reshaped reality along with it. It was a difficult task for sure and to have to attempt it when faced with a dangerous beast made it even the more frightful. Stephen, however, had not despaired like so many others. He had quickly fled to his bunk and shut his eyes as fast as he could, already thinking of what he might do to master the lesson. It hadn't taken him long to concoct a plan, if not the creature he intended to carry them out on, and in that time he had already fallen asleep, his schemes melding with his dreams. He had dreamt of the sky and when he had awoken that had given him an idea of a creature he could practice on, one of the most dangerous available in the stables.

About halfway down the path, Stephen squinted at the stable entrance and chuckled at what he saw. Cliff, one of the less magic proficient employees of the academy leaned against a pylon, fast asleep at his post. Stephen was actually a little disappointed at this for he had been looking forward to practicing some invisibility or even a small jaunt in teleportation. Still, he was not too saddened--after all, it would just give him more time and energy to practice on his true goal.

By the time Stephen reached the stable, his excitement over workings and the casting of past spells had overcome any exhaustion or fatigue from his toil at the academy earlier. Cliff, on the other hand, was in such a deep sleep that Stephen didn't even bother to renew his stealth spell. He looked down at the stable worker and then knelt down. Scattered around the worker's feet were bottles empty of liquid, though Stephen could guess from the smell and the man's long, drawn out snores what had been contained within. He shook his head and stood facing the stable doors; large stone slabs that had no discernible handle or lock. He pushed against them, only to find that they would not budge. No matter--he pressed a hand and muttered a word he was not meant to know, one he had overheard a few senior students speak about when one had forgotten something in a locked classroom. The stone doors shuddered and silently swung open, revealing the interior of the stables: row upon row of similar doors forming a hall of sort, the indication of what lay behind each door written in runes upon their cold surface. Stephen stepped into the stables, the doors behind him closing just as quietly as they had opened. He glanced around the stables. Once he was satisfied that he was truly alone, he began to walk down the center of the "hall", glancing between the doors as he passed them. Though he knew which creature he was looking for, he always liked to weigh his options first. Perhaps there was something even more dangerous that he was unaware of.

"Horses," he snorted, reading the first one. Such domesticated animals could be dangerous, but hardly aggressive. He moved on.

"Cattle," he sighed with a look to the second. "That won't do. Now let's see here: pegasi? Same problem as horses..." He sniffed. "And they smell twice as bad."

"Ethersmirks," he continued. "No, not aggressive enough. Giant mice?" He rolled his eyes. "Really? Who would want to ride one of those. Come on, where are the--"

Stephen came to a halt and a smirk played across his face.

"...wyverns," he said. "Now these..." he traced his hand over the rune carved into the door. "These are something I wouldn't mind riding."

He spoke the word the rune represented and the door shuddered like its kin and opened. Unlike the other doors, however, this one merely faded until it was translucent and insubstantial, shifted into the place between reality and unreality. He peered through the semi-transparent door and saw great white resting shapes. Before he could examine them more closely, the door shimmered. He nodded and quickly dashed forward, entering the wyvern pen just as the door came into existence once more. He let out a sigh of relief, relaxing somewhat until he remembered where he was. Immediately he stood up straight and glanced about the pen.

The wyvern pen was a large cavern similar to the lairs the creatures resided in out in the wild. At a height less than twenty feet, the ceiling was rather low for the flighty creatures. It was for this reason that he figured the wyverns in his sight lazed bout, the full use of their massive wings denied. The wyvern's wingspans weren't the only aspect large about them. The creatures were nearly as big as a smaller elephant, though thinner and gaunter in many ways. He marveled at their sickle-shaped claws at the tips of their wings, tools that could be used for combat or climbing. Their tough white scales shimmered in the dim glow of a magelight hanging at the center of the pen's ceiling and their visible sharp teeth were like many icicles yet much, much more deadly. Their cold blue eyes reminded Stephen of the skies they liked to spend much of their upon as well as their preferred chilly clime. The wyverns' pointed, reptilian snout showed some aspects of their draconic heritage, but any intelligence they possessed was animalistic, not true sentience like some of their elder kin. Despite all of this, Stephen was disappointed in the wyverns. He had expected more from the stories he had heard of them, not that he had really wanted to be torn apart upon entrance to their home, but he had certainly hoped that they might snarl or something, not lay pathetically still with wings pulled close and nary a sign of interest towards him. Never mind that, though--he would rile one up if he had to. If this could not be accomplished, he could always try the ethersmirks.

Stephen turned towards the closet wyvern and neared it with a few silent steps. He was thinking of a way to anger it when something to his right snarled. He looked towards the source and found his intended victim's neighbor was on its feet, tail raised aggressively. When he stared into its blue eyes, it hissed and clicked its wingclaws against the ground. Stephen smiled when it growled again, a low rumble echoing in its throat. He wasn't sure how he had angered it--perhaps it was a new capture to the stables and had yet to be domesticated like the rest--but neither did he truly care. All that mattered was that here was his threat and his subject.

"Hey there," he said, totally shifting his focus to the angry wyvern.

The words to his alteration spell ran through his mind. He raised his hands and pointed his right at the wyvern. His smile deepened as he thought what the spell would do to his aggressor. It was genius, really. The large creature would be reduced to a small size in a form unfamiliar to it: that of a human. Without any natural weapons, the creature would stumble angrily, but helplessly about. For Stephen's own amusement and pleasure, the creature would also end up female--it wasn't often he saw a naked woman due to the academy's policies on such interactions among apprentices. It would be amusing for sure and a delightful success.

The wyvern roared this time, so loud that it actually hurt Stephen's ears. Still, his concentration was not broken at least until the wyvern sprang at him with no warning. He hadn't expected something so large to move so fast within its confined space, yet at least he had the presence of mind to stumble backwards. When the wyvern landed growling and snapping in the place he had been only moments before, he panicked and acted. The words to his spell spilled out, one after another in a jumbled mess, each one said at the wrong place at the right time. Still, Stephen had no choice but to continue speaking--in this conflict he had chosen fight rather than flight and his basest instinct would not let him cease his speech.

As Stephen finished the final word of the incantation, the wyvern lunged forward. The creature failed to make contact for in that moment the mage's body suddenly exploded with arcane energy. It suffused his form, flinging him out of the wyvern's reach. He landed on his back with a grunt. Despite the pain, he forced himself to roll over on his hands and knees. He lifted his head with the intention to look to the wyvern but his gaze did not get farther than his own hand. He gasped when he saw the white light that suffused it and it was then that he began to realize what he had done.

"No!" he said, wiggling his numb right hand while the light rapidly spread up his arm then over his entire form before being absorbed into his flesh. "Noooo!"

His mind raced as he tried to recall exactly what he had said. The words came easy enough and the order they had been spoken in shortly after. He glanced fearfully up to the wyvern. Rather than be moving aggressively towards him as he had feared, the wyvern stood still. Its head was slightly turned to the side as it stared at him. Stephen knew it must just be his imagination, but it seemed like its draconic visage was set in a toothy smile, almost as if it knew, knew that he would become like it.

Or not! A solution came to Stephen, a counterspell borne out of desperation. He had yet to alter, had yet to lose--

Stephen groaned while his bones cracked and his muscles stretched, mass and might increasing with each passing second, his attire ripping apart from his sudden growth. As the world grew smaller, he fumbled for the right words. He pushed through the changing pains, the words to the counterspell on the tips of his tongue when his cranium started to bend and reshape. He quickly attempted the words of undoing, but all he managed to do was sputter and cough as his tongue thickened in some areas and thinned in others, lengthening so that it hung out of his mouth. He tried again and only succeeded in biting down on his tongue with sharpening teeth. Tears welled up in his eyes from the pain. He blinked them away, his expanding eyeballs shifting from brown to blue in a second, round pupil thinning into a slit. For the third time he tried to speak and what came out was a reptilian rasp. After this attempt, smooth white scales paler than the skin they were replacing ran over his distended face. His scalp momentarily tingled, causing him to shake his head, his hair shedding off in clumps onto the ground while his ears melted into his skull. He lurched forward as his face pushed forward into his vision, now a completely draconic muzzle complete with icicle like teeth and two holes in replacement for his nose. The scales finished covering his head and began to make their way down his thicker neck.

Stephen shrieked, unwilling to give up even though he was now incapable of any human speech. His form abruptly stopped growing, leaving him a little smaller than the wyvern that had attacked him. It still had many more changes to go, as evidenced as his neck stretched forward, the rest of his appendages following suit. He watched in horror as his hands melded into a thin small mass, streamlined like the rest of his lengthy arms. Scales formed in the spot where the center of his palms had once been and more joined them. They quickly covered these extremities and moved up his arms, while the thin and delicate flesh of wing membranes began to grow from his elbows to end of each arm. Hard, keratinous nubs sprang from the end of his wing arms, curling into scythe-like claws that could cut through the toughest of hides. Stephen moved his gaze away from his front when he felt substantially more growth in the back. He looked back to his already scaled hindquarters just in time to see his undersized genitals quietly retreat into a smooth slit further down his larger rear. His toes melded together, hardening into three claws perfect for grasping and stability. Simultaneously, his legs twisted and snapped as their joints reconfigured so that he would never walk the same way again. He stumbled forward, catching himself on his foreclaws before he could fall on his broadening chest. Still he kept his gaze focused to his back, shuddered when his rear melded together, smooth and seamless for a moment before the start of a tail burst out of his rear and a small tailhole formed under it. Stephen sounded off with harsh grunts as the tail pushed farther and farther out, each inch of growth a moment of pain. Finally it ceased growing, finishing as a thick, near-prehensile tail nearly as long as his body. Thinking all was finished back there, Stephen was surprised when his non-visible genitals churned. He shivered with uncomfortable pleasure as he felt what remained of manhood diminish into a small nub that topped the slit, the fleshy folds around it softening and becoming more sensitive. A shudder ran down his spine when his testicles retreated, converting into their feminine opposites as they tunneled their way up through a slick and sensitive passage into a freshly formed womb. Realizing she was now female, Stephen shook her head and wondered what was to come next.

Luckily for Stephen, she was nearly done. While she had watched her back end, the flesh of her wings had grown out and stiffened so that she now had an impressive wingspan and was ready for flight, not that she intended to fly. The scales too had finished covered up her body, leaving her with a thick, scaled hide all over save for her softer underbelly scales and those near her altered sex. The last change that came over her was one that could not be physically noticed, and one that she herself did not feel.

With the alterations complete, Stephen looked upon her form in despair. Yes, she was truly a wyvern now, and female at that. Despite herself, she glanced down at her sex, still not truly believing that it had changed. Though her whole form was alien to her, the puffy slit seemed the strangest of all the changes. It didn't really matter, however. She didn't intend on mating with anything; the thought disgusted her despite the fact that she was beginning to feel a dull throb in her nethers. She did her best to ignore it and instead turned her gaze to the stone door and the rune that lay upon it. She might not be able to speak a complex counterspell with her altered form, but she was certain she could manage to force out one word with her rough tongue.

Before she could journey over to the door, she was momentarily unbalanced as something brushed against her right side. She snarled and snapped her head around, placing her sight on the wyvern from before. Her new and attuned sense of smell as well as a sudden flare of heat in her nethers told her the wyvern was a male. He gazed at her lustfully, the smile she had seen before still painted across his draconic muzzle. Anger overcame her, forcing her to slash out at him with her claws. He easily sidestepped her clumsy swipes. Though he still retained that smile, he backed off anyways. She snarled as she watched him retreat, not letting him out of her sight until he was back where they had first met. She gave him one last growl before bounding to the door, an action she found easier than she would have thought. Her form did not seem so unfamiliar after all...

Stephen placed one of her claws on the rune. She imagined how she might say it as a human and then as a wyvern, slowly rehearsing herself mentally mimicking her imagined human form. She opened her muzzle, letting her long tongue fall out of it. Slowly she hissed, repeating what she had practiced, or at least she tried. Nothing she "said" came out sounding human at all or close to her intended sound. She didn't sound human because she wasn't human at all. She was just a...a--

She shrieked in anger, clawing at the door, her efforts doing little more than chipping the stone. Raged coursed through her because she had to be out, out, OUT!

For a few moments more she took out her anger on the door. When there were no results, she flapped her wings angrily and turned away from the portal. She seethed, staring across at the other wyverns, her kin. They stared at her in surprise at her outburst, some even going so far to lift their heads, the first movement she had seen from any of them except all but one--the male, the aggressor. She snarled at him and dashed to the center of the room. He stared back, smile retained. Stephen gave one last roar and then turned away from him. She tried her best to calm down. She certainly wasn't going to think rationally in this state. So, she folded up her wings in front of her and came to a rest facing the door. As of now, all she could do was play the waiting game.

No, she realized. She had to do more than that. She started to scratch at the ground, doing her best to trace letters into the stone. Other students would surely come to practice on the wyverns, so she had just to make sure she would get their attention. Carving the letters into the hard floor was not an easy task and she had barely got half of a patchy letter scrawled into the stone when she smelled a familiar scent. She looked up to her right to find the male from before, crouched low in a pose that had allowed him to move silently to her. She stared at him, unsure what he intended to do. He chirred and pointed at the letter with a claw, causing her to flinch. She regained her composure and narrowed her eyes at him, unwillingly turning her gaze to the letter. She was thus surprised when he leaned forward and gave her a lick across her snout. She stumbled back from this sudden act of affection, her body sending her mixed signals as she gazed upon the sly wyvern. There was part of her that wanted her to mate with the male then and there, but anger and disgust won out once again. She roared out her anger and was about to leap out on him when a voice suddenly rang out.

"Thanks for waking me up, shweeties!" A slurred and hoarse voice called from behind the door. "Heresh a treat!"

The female wyvern tore her gaze away from the male and towards the door. For now it was insubstantial and she could barely see movement beyond its translucent frame. A moment later, a cart rolled quickly through the passage, coming to a stop when it bumped into her. The content of the carts smelled delicious, but that was not her focus. Mimicking the movement of the male from earlier, she spread her wings and leapt over the cart. Upon landing, she bounded towards the door, but arrived too late. She crashed into the door just as it solidified. She snarled, rearing up on her legs and clawing at the door. She shrieked and shrieked--freedom was so close and it had been denied to her! From beyond the door, a voice spoke again, but this time she didn't understand it, not that she cared. She screeched back when it feel silent and quickly twisted around back towards the cart. The rest of the lax wyverns were creeping towards the delicious smelling device, earning her ire. She had earned it from the voice, not them! It was hers!

The wyvern leapt again, landing squarely on the cart, sending the all but the male she knew a step back. She bared her teeth and them, her anger all too evident. To further display her intentions and ownership, she lowered her head and took a chomp at the cart's contents. She ripped at the raw flesh of some beast she knew not or cared, reveling in the taste. She chewed quickly and lifted her head, swallowing her first bit of the delectable meat--raw and bloody, just as she loved it. She took another larger bite, chewing more slowly this time. She felt especially hungry now, as if she hadn't eaten properly for a creature her size for days.

The female continued to devour the flesh until there was only a mouthful left. She took this in her mouth and stepped off the cart. She turned around and came face to face with the male. She chirred and laid the meat at his feet. He rumbled and took it, biting delicately into the flesh. While he ate, she watched. The male wasn't as aggressive as he had first came across and she knew that they shared the same desires in more than one way.

Suddenly, a primal urge overcame her and who was she to deny it? She turned away from the male so that her rear faced him. Just as he finished eating, she lifted her tail and glanced over her shoulder to him, replicating his smile. She twitched her tail, snorting in amusement when she saw his gaze was exactly where she wanted it to be--right on her slick sex. She prodded at her slit with her tail, squirming in pleasure, enticing him to put something in her that would be far more enjoyable for both. With a toothy smile and a glance her way, he promised just that.

The male gently clambered onto her. Despite his size and weight and that she was practically pinned, she felt calm and comfortable. The sensual closeness only excited her more and by the feeling of something hard pressing near her sex, it was the same for him as well. He craned his neck and stared into her eyes. She gave him a loving lick first this time and he returned it. He growled and shifted around, the tension proving to be nearly too much for the female. Her sex was flushed and ready so when she felt something prod it, she hissed in pleasure. It didn't go in; rather, it continued to poke at her sex, teasing the sensitive folds. She looked back and saw that he was doing as she had, though with his tail. She growled half-heartedly. It felt good, but it wasn't--

The female screeched when he finally entered her, thick member sliding easily into her slick yet tight folds. A moment later, he thrust further in, his hard cock pleasurably caressing her inner walls. He bore down on her as he moved in further still, causing her to hiss at the intensity and him to growl with satisfaction. They rhythmically rocked back and forth, she urging him on with primal, pleasurable cries. He increased the pace of their mating, the pleasure flowing in so fast that the female's thoughts were cast away so caught up was she in their act. She loved it, she loved what he was doing to her, but most of all she loved knowing that soon she would have more of him.

This time came sooner than expected when he let out a loud grunt and then she felt him release into her, spilling his seed into her womb. She too climaxed at that moment and the ensuing bliss proved too much for her and him. They both collapsed. A few seconds later, the male slowly pulled out of her, giving her inner walls one last sensual touch before his member popped out free. He rolled off her so that they lay side by side. Unconsciously, she snuggled against him. He covered her with a wing and drew her in close. Satisfied, the female found herself falling into unconsciousness, exhausted from both their mating and some unknown ordeal from before...

The female blinked her eyes. She had strange visions while she had slept, of walking so close to the ground with the sky so far. She growled in displeasure. No matter--she had also dreamt of escape and how she could do so. This enclosure could not properly serve as a nesting ground, something she would soon need if her pairing with the male had not made her a mother already. First, though, she would need the sky. The sky would be hers again and this time she would have a mate to share it with.

They wyvern stood and stepped out of the male's wing. She turned and gave him a loving nuzzle on his snout, waking him. He chuffed and looked up at her sleepily. She gaze him another prod and motioned with her snout to the door. He turned his head, but followed her anyways when she moved towards it. She stood against the wall so that anyone entering the room would not immediately see her. When the male stood next to her, she growled and pointed a claw to her front. He obeyed, walking over so that he stood facing across from her. He hissed in confusion, but she silenced him with a growl. From there they waited.

After a time, the female heard sounds, the voices of her captors beyond the stone door. She scratched at the ground, grabbing her mate's attention. She turned towards the door and prepared herself.

When the door suddenly faded away, revealing several robed figures, the female snarled and leapt forward. Surprised, the humans scattered, allowing her to easily rush past them. She flapped her wings and was able to obtain the minimal height to fly in the stable's hall. She glided down the distance, eyes set on the still open entrance to the stables that other humans were walking into. Behind her she heard the shouts of the human and she felt a few projectiles fly past her, some hot, others cold, but none of them hitting. The humans that had just entered were younger than the ones she had at first passed and more braver than their kin. She turned her head behind her and saw her mate right on her tail as well as a few other wyverns that had taken the opportunity escape along with her. These ones had left a little too late, for the humans she had started had regained their composure and were aiming their spells far more accurately at her kin. Many of them fell, frozen and paralyzed, but she knew this would not be her fate.

With a triumphant roar, the female broke free of the confines of the stables and into the outside. She flapped her wings harder and harder, bringing her higher, so high that none of the humans could hope to hit her. She was free and a second roar echoing her own told her that her mate had escaped unscathed as well. She looked down at him and dropped to his level so that both were soaring in the newly risen sun.

Together they both let out another shriek. The female dove and then rose up with a spin and a twirl. She was free, no longer bound to the sky only in dreams. She had all she truly wanted at the moment, but the most important aspect was the sky, of course.